Page 149 of Anything Necessary for Her
“I didn’t do that on purpose!” Nikita cried.
“You did, you stupid bitch!” Kailey tried to run from behind Douglas to get her, but he snatched her just in time.
I was too stunned and worried to even speak as I kept my eyes on my ankle. I couldn’t believe this shit was happening and right when I was to be the soloist in the ballet.
As Dr. Ferris and Nurse Ida rolled me out, I heard Carolyn say, “Kailey, you know we have a no tolerance for violence policy, so you are therefore suspended, and your part in Giselle will go to your understudy.”
“What? What about her? She threw her bag in front of Banks on purpose!” I heard my best friend plead as I was wheeled down the hallway.
Their arguing faded in the distance as I rounded the corner in the bed, and I couldn’t help but to think about how both Trayvon and Kailey had lost things because of me, though indirectly.
Dr. Ferris examined my ankle thoroughly before doing an immediate X-ray. The entire time I was in the room by myself, I prayed to the Lord that this was something small and that Iwould be able to dance in Giselle still. But the burning in my ankle that felt like an unruly forest fire made it feel like my prayers were useless.
“Alright, Miss St. Thomas.” Dr. Ferris walked in without his nurse. “So, it looks like you have a sprain. It’s not too bad, and that’s simply because it seems like you sort of caught yourself in the middle of the trip. However, it can worsen if you do not keep it elevated and rest for a couple weeks.”
“Rest meaning like after practice?” I tried my luck, but he began shaking his head before I could even finish.
“No. Rest meaning you do not dance on it for a few weeks. Week one, use it as little as possible. Week two, do some therapy on it, and by week three, you should be able to gradually get back into dancing, depending on your progress.” He sat down on a rounded stool. “I want you to understand, Miss St. Thomas, that if you go against what I am saying to you, the results can be far worse. Sitting out for two weeks is nothing compared to having to drop out of Prolific orneverbeing able to dance well again.”
“I understand,” I said softly.
“Great.” He handed me a document. “This is the therapy I want you to attend in a week. They’ve already been notified and will be expecting you. They’ll also report to me on your progress.” He stood. “Is your ride here?”
“It is.” I nodded before Dr. Ferris went to call for Ida, who brought in a wheelchair.
They helped me down and wheeled me out to the front where Low was. My father had come down to get my truck and drive it home for me.
Low helped me from the wheelchair and into the car, before folding it up and placing it into his trunk. Dr. Ferris and Nurse Ida watched the entire time until Low was in the car with me, pulling off.
“What they say, Peep?” he asked after driving for a while.
“Said it could heal so long as I don’t dance for a few weeks,” I replied sullenly.
“Aight. Damn, but that ain’t too bad, right?” He looked my way.
“I guess not, but two weeks is long enough for me to regress. Me regressing could mean I get replaced, or worse, the role goes to Nikita, who I am sure has practiced my solo just in case.”
“I bet you that’s who it won’t go to,” Low promised. I’d texted him while waiting on my X-rays about what happened, or what Kailey had said happened since I was looking over my shoulder at the time, so he knew Nikita was the culprit.
I told my parents, too, and my mother wanted to get one of my sisters-in-law to beat Nikita’s ass since I couldn’t do it and because she felt she was too old to hit her. I was able to calm her down some when I revealed that Kailey had taken care of that and well.
“Carolyn kicked Kailey out of the show for having my back.” I shook my head as I looked out the window, feeling terrible for my friend. “She’s suspended, too, which I’m unsure on the meaning of that at Prolific.”
“Carolyn run that shit?” he queried.
“She basically does, but the actual head is a man named Cary Kirby,” I replied.
Low nodded, clearly soaking up this information.
“What you wanna eat?” He switched subjects.
“A burger, I guess, since I like to eat trash when I’m sad.”
He smirked, rubbing my thigh as he drove.
“Don’t be sad, Peep. Ain’t nobody gon’ take yo’ spot, and the rest of that shit, I’m gon’ take care of.”
Oddly, that made me feel better as if Low had the power to make everything right with just his words.
